Deliverance
by MegaFrost4
Summary: Yaldi hatov veh harach, al tira veh al tif'had... Do you know somewhere he can be free? SUPERWHOLOCK AU
1. Chapter 1

"Rose Tyler, I -"

A lump caught in his throat. Tears streamed down his face. The TARDIS floated in outer space, unable to allow him to say it.

But it doesn't need saying, does it?

He silently begged her to damn it all, and just go back. He needed to tell her. His hearts would not let him, though, because he knew they would both die, along with both universes. He did not want to kill her because...

Feeling his hearts breaking, he knew it was time...again. His mind replayed their first kiss, but it was the Bad Wolf, not her. He frowned when _they_ kissed because it was not him. He would never know...how it really felt.

This recent life flashed before his eyes. So much more he could have done. So much he could have done differently, to save at least maybe one more life.

"I don't want to go..."

His puffy red eyes fogged his vision, but he could still see it. He could definitely feel it, and it hurt so much more now than ever before. All because of _her_. How could he ever love again?

The pain was unbearable. He screamed as soon as his new mouth formed. Eyes widened, blinking rapidly. All around him was fire. The TARDIS was aflame.

It was a sign.

He fell onto the controls, not just from the turbulence, but his new, and very awkwardly clumsy body. He tried to steady her, ignoring the sparks flying and hitting his smooth, younger face.

She spun wildly for what seemed like eternity before stopping and looking over present-day earth.

"Doctor."

* * *

 _The sun shone bright today, as was everyday in this little world. This new empire, hidden from view, surrounded by death and destruction. No one would go through to get to the center, mostly because of the guards._

 _Terrible creatures, they are. No soul, nothing but the desire to kill, to punish those humans who dared to mock their prince. The one who feeds them, gives them freedom and protection from Him._

 _The One whose name makes them screech in pain. The One who always got in the way, sending his puppets to kill them off. Never again will they be persecuted. Now, it's their then, to know how it feels to be killed on sight. Those humans who were ignorant enough to refuse to bow down before their prince, their new king._

 _That's me, by the way, hi. Daddy had gotten all sick in the head, and well, after he killed Mummy, I had to do something. And for avenging her, I have the key. I have taken center stage. I am going to show Him what I can really do._

 _I have collected some humans, so I am not completely heartless. These little boys had me since the first day I laid eyes on them. The_ _y are going to be fun to play with._

 _To them, I am their savior. Sure, what can a ten-year old do as king? Demand they stay here, in my palace, my sanctuary for them. I brought them in when I could have just let those abominations pick their teeth with their little bones. I am doing them a favor. The least they could do is everything I say._

 _Except they are not all of age to understand. One is just a couple of days old. I left him and his brother to one of the maids, whom I have made off-limits until I say so. I need her to have a soul so the little brats would survive childhood._

 _In the meantime, I can get to know these two really well. I had their parents killed last week and watched to see how they responded. They did not cry. Instead, they made a pact to stick together._

 _How adorable. One looking out for the other. An odd pairing, really. A little spit-fire and a tall brain, I can already tell they are going to be very interesting._

 _Sorry, I'm down the rabbit hole. The point is, I want you, Doctor. I know you're in my head because of Him. I want you to see this. Watch them grow up in hell. Watch all of their hopes and dreams get stripped away. Watch them wake up every day, wishing they could go back to sleep and die. You could try to save them, but you can't. I won't let you. He won't let you, either. Because He is dead. He doesn't care. All that's left is you and me._

 _Come on then, Doctor, come out and play in my world._

* * *

The Doctor shook out of his daze after that vision.

"Nononononono...this cannot be happening. I have to stop this!" He paused, looking up to listen. "I know You always know, and if You say so, but You better make it quick because these children need You!"

Whoever this is, the Doctor knew he was up to no good. And he was so young. It pained to see just a boy cause so much pain and had to do something. But he needed help with this kind of problem. The TARDIS pulled up a picture of whom he was looking for.

"Alright, let's go find him."

The Doctor was never one to stand back and watch people suffer. He would find his loophole, like always, for the sake of those little boys. Innocent boys who have seen too much at their young age.

"They will be...now go."

The Doctor froze for a second, comprehending what he just heard. Relief flooded him as a tiny ray of hope pushed him on. If those boys will make it, then he was sure he and his friend could save them. But he had to hurry and come back to them several years later in their lives before things get out of hand.

Because if this man is whom the Doctor thinks he is, this king of Reichenbach, then the entire world was in danger of the Apocalypse.


	2. Chapter 2

Fear. It was all around him. His father had told him something about someone, but his brain could not recall anything. At only four years old, it took all his courage not to drop it and run. Because _it_ was important.

Crouching lower behind his mother's old chair, which hardly resembled it, he quietly shushed his bundle.

 _It_ was his baby brother.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you."

He wished more than anything Mom was here. She would chase the monsters away. He looked at a puddle in the corner. She tried her very best.

Dad made him promise not to look up, and he obeyed because he was scared. Looking down at his little brother, he smiled. He can be brave for Sammy.

The door to their house slammed open. Thankfully, Sam did not make a sound. His brother silently begged his heart to stop pounding so hard, thinking the monsters could hear it. Nobody came in.

"Come on out, Dean, it's alright."

Dean froze, clutching the bundle a little tighter.

"Dean?" John Winchester sounded really scared. "I told him to hide, and-" CRACK!

"The Prince does not tolerate excuses. Now, then, come on out Dean, or you and your brother starve. We don't want that to happen, now, would we?"

It didn't work. John had told Dean to never come out under any circumstances, to play dead, so the monsters could not get to them. This one must be really smart.

"Little Sammy won't stop crying unless you feed him."

Dean gulped, slowly standing up. He had been hiding for a long time and his legs were tired. He saw a man, no monsters standing at the doorway, and he was really tall.

"Who are you?" Dean tried to put on a brave face, but his knees felt like they were about to buckle.

"I'm here to save you." He reached out one hand. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Dean looked around, seeing no bad guys, except this one. "I promised Dad."

"I know you did. And I am here to help you keep that promise."

Dean thought for a second. As young as he was, he was still pretty smart. Dad was dead, he knew that much. He looked up at the man.

No black eyes.

"OK."

"Let's get going so we can make it before dark. The Prince will be so happy to meet you."

The Prince?! Dean's stomach flipped.

The man opened the car door, tinted windows that always made Dean nervous. People with money are bad news, according to Dad. They all work for _him_.

The drive was quiet until Sammy started crying again.

"I think he's hungry. Here." The man pulled out a bottle from a cabinet in the long car.

Dean eyed it suspiciously.

"You're a smart one. If I wanted to kill you and your brother, I would have already done it by now."

Dean looked at him, then at the bottle. He took it then tried some himself. Smacking his lips, he waited for his tummy to hurt. It just tasted like normal formula. He counted to ten.

Nothing happened.

Maybe this man was OK after all. Maybe he was one of the good guys undercover. Like in those books his Dad used to read to him.

He fed Sammy the milk, who took to the bottle greedily. Dean pulled back a couple of times to keep him from choking and to take breaks to breathe.

"The Prince will have dinner waiting for you. You're new...landlady...will take care of you. I am in a very important position as the Royal advisor."

"So you killed my Dad?"

"I beg your pardon? I saved you and your brother from that demon that killed your father."

Dean did not believe him, but pretended to anyway. "Thank-you."

"You're very welcome, Dean."

* * *

The mansion was HUGE. It looked more like a palace. It was all white, a bright welcome compared to the dark scary world he had lived in. There was a wall surrounding the estate that the tall man had to push several buttons and do other things to let them drive in. Dean figured that kept the monsters out.

"Welcome to your new home." The man opened the door to let Dean out.

Tilting his brother up, he did a slow circle. "Look, Sammy. This is our new home."

Something did not feel right about this place, but no monsters was a big plus compared to living back out there. He could handle the rest.

The front doors were huge. It took two people dressed really nice to open them for the boys. Dean followed the tall man into the mansion through a long hallway till they came to another set of doors. Two other men dressed in nice suits opened the doors for them again. They looked like Men in Black!

A long red carpet met his little feet. Dean had never felt anything this soft in his whole life. He smiled. He thought that maybe he could teach Sammy how to walk here so when he would fall down, it would not hurt like when he was a baby.

The carpet led to a huge chair, fit for a king. Sitting on the throne was a boy older than him but still really young. He had a crown on his head and a sceptor of some sorts. He looked really serious, and Dean got really nervous.

"Your Highness." The tall man bowed. Dean nodded his head in respect, since he was still holding Sammy.

"H-hello, your m-majesty. My name is Dean. This here's Sammy."

"Hi." The Prince got up, waled down the three steps and knelt down in front of the boys. "Do you like my house?" Dean nodded. "Good!" Dean jumped at the sudden high pitch. "Now there is someone I want you to meet. She will be your Nanny."

The tall man cleared his throat, when from around the corner came an older woman with red hair and a warm smile on her face. She wore a purple dress with pearls. Dean thought she looked nice in purple.

"Hello, boys!" She out her hands on her knees as she bent forward. "You must be Dean and little Sammy! Aren't you just the sweetest things!"

"Thank-you, Miss."

"Such manners! Come along, boys, and let me get you something good to eat. But first we must wash up!"

As they disappeared down another hallway, the Prince stared after them.

"Did you bring him?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Very good. My poor things have been getting ravenous."

"How do you think of the boys, Sir?"

The Prince smiled devilishly. "They'll do..."


	3. Chapter 3

Walking down another hall, Dean's neck started to hurt from looking up and all around. Little chandeliers hung on the ceiling, and there was not a cobweb in sight. Despite his dad's warnings, Dean really liked this place.

Living with strangers sounded a lot better than living with monsters.

"My name is Mrs. Hudson." The lady said. "Rest assured, I'm going to take good care of you and your brother." She stopped in front of a random door off to the side. "Here we are." Pulling out a single key, she unlocked the door and turned on a light switch. Dean was surprised the light stayed on.

No flickering.

Dean wondered how a house could be built inside a castle.

"Is this my house?" Dean looked up at Mrs. Hudson.

She laughed. "Why no! Dear, this is your bedroom! There are two other boys that will sleep over there, and you will sleep right here." She walked over to the second set of bunk beds.

Dean looked at Sammy. "Mrs. Hudson, Sammy can't sleep in a big boy bed right now."

"Right you are, Dean. Mr. Mycroft is having a crib made special for little Sammy."

Dean nodded. "OK...who is Mycwoft?"

"He's the man who saved your life! Brought you out of the desert wasteland into safety."

"The tall man?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Yes, with the umbrella. It never rains here, don't know why. You'll have to forgive him, Dean. Mr. Mycroft is not very friendly on the outside, but he means well."

Sammy started to fuss.

"Now, let's get you ready for a bath, while I get a bottle for your brother. Then you can have some supper."

Dean let Mrs. Hudson hold Sammy. He trusted her. After whispering phrases and sprinkling special water on her while she was talking, Dean knew she was OK.

And no scary eyes.

Mrs. Hudson let Dean test Sammy's bottle before feeding him. Yep, she was good in Dean's book.

Dean helped her push a rocking chair into the bathroom so he could still keep an eye on Sammy. She was so proud to find out that Dean knew how to scrub really good in order to get the soap out. This bath was really nice. The warm water felt good.

After drying off, Mrs. Hudson led him back into their room and pulled back a curtain. It revealed a little indoor pavilion with windows for ceiling. The sun was low on the horizon.

"This is where we eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and tea."

Dean nodded in understanding, even though he had no idea that there was a fourth meal called tea.

"Go on and sit down. The boys will be here in just a moment."

As soon as Dean sat down, another man in a suit came in and poured milk into a cup for him.

"Is this a cow or a goat?"

"Comes from Daisy the cow. She's our best one. Would you rather have goat's milk?"

"No, I like cow." Dean took a swig, and hummed. "This is yummy!"

"I'm so glad!"

"Mrs. Hudson! Is dinner ready?" Someone called out. Dean turned around to find a boy with blonde hair poke his head through the curtain.

"Only if you two wash up." Mrs. Hudson told him, still holding Sammy. Dean was surprised he fell asleep that quick. But then again, there were no monsters here to wake him up.

There was some shuffling and mumbling heard on the other side of the curtain for a few minutes before two boys appeared and seated themselves on the round table. One was the little blonde, and the other was a few inches taller with dark, curly hair. They pulled their napkins into their laps and waited very impatiently.

"Is dinner ready now, Mrs. Hudson?" The taller boy asked.

"Oh, it's been ready. You two were just late again."

"But I wasn't finished with my chapter!" He whined.

"Are you reading ahead again in your studies?"

"No." The blonde answered for him. "He's just reading for _fun_."

"You're just jealous because I'm the smarter one!"

"No! I just find it very annoying!"

"That's enough, boys!" Mrs. Hudson scolded. "We have new guests."

The boys looked at Dean for the first time since they sat down.

"I'm John." The blonde waved.

"Sherlock." The other one said reluctantly.

Dean swallowed. "I'm Dean." He turned to look at Mrs. Hudson. "And that's my brother, Sammy."

They nodded, John smiling, and Sherlock staring at him.

Another man in a suit walked out with a tray with three plates on it. They were covered up, which Dean thought was weird. It smelled good, nonetheless. Each one was set in front of each boy. Then, the man pulled off the tops to reveal what they were eating.

Sherlock rolled his eyes while John nodded in approval at what they had. Dean noticed his plate looked almost the same except smaller. They immediately started digging in, except for Dean. He closed his eyes, whispering.

"Thank you for food and Sammy's food. It looks good. Amen." Dean opened his eyes to find Sherlock staring at him again, John avoiding eye contact all together.

"Was that OK?" Dean asked. "I'm sorry, but I do not know what this is, so I just said food."

"Of course, Dean." Mrs. Hudson assured him. Her smile was sad, though.

"Why did you-OW! John!" Sherlock rubbed his arm where John had pinched him.

"Sherlock! There is nothing wrong with that! You know my rules..."

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock grumbled.

Dean kept looking at his plate, not touching his food.

"Is everything alright, Dean."

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. My tummy hasn't told me I'm hungry, yet."

"Oh, but you must be hungry. Here." She cut his food into little pieces. "Just try a bite."

"But I'm not-"

"Sometimes our tummy doesn't always tell us loudly. Sometimes it's very quiet. You must have eaten a big lunch."

Dean shook his head. "I had a little something...yesterday."

Mrs. Hudson was taken aback. She almost let that tear fall. "Well, one of my rules hear is that you are not allowed to leave the table until you eat."

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson." Dean picked up a piece of his food and put it in his mouth. The taste was so good! He had never had anything like this before. "This is very yummy! What is it?"

"Why, it's a ham and cheese sandwich, Dean."

"I like sandwiches." Dean took another bite. His tummy growled a little. "Hey, my tummy is hungry!"

"Best eat up, then. I've got a surprise if you finish."

Dean continued to eat. Sherlock and John were really quiet ever since Mrs. Hudson had gotten onto them.

When everyone had finished, Dean looked behind him to see Sammy still sound asleep. He could not wait for him to grow up and try this yummy food. Their plates were taken away, and another set of plates were set in front of them. When the tops were taken off, Dean looked at it curiously.

"What's this?"

"It's delicious!" John smiled at the little boy. "You going to love it!"

Dean looked at it again. It smelled even better than his dinner. He took his fork and tried a bite.

"Wow! This is the best food ever!"

"I'm so glad you like the pie, Dean." Mrs. Hudson smiled.

* * *

Dean looked at his bed. He turned to see John and Sherlock arguing.

"Why can't I ever have top bunk?"

"Because, John, not only am I taller and faster and smarter, I need the space to think!"

"Oh, in your stupid mind fantasy?" John teased.

"It's not stupid, John." Sherlock whined.

"Alright, boys, settle down. Lights out in ten." They both reached under their pillows, pulled out a book, and started writing.

Mrs. Hudson tucked Dean into bed. Dean looked over to see Sammy's crib right next to him. Mrs. Hudson's rocking chair faced them.

"Would you like to hear a bedtime story?"

Dean nodded, eyes wide in excitement.

"Alright, here we go." She opened up a book that had a picture of a man in all black with a big cape. "Gotham was in trouble again..."


	4. Chapter 4

That first night was nothing short of nightmares. The monsters would not stop coming. But Dean would not scream because that would wake up Sammy.

He tossed around, not used to the weight of blankets. And there were too many pillows. He felt like he was in quicksand.

"Mrs. Hudson..." He whispered. He crawled out underneath the mountain of his bed and sat on the edge. She was sound asleep, one hand resting on Sammy's crib. He should not wake her. That would be rude.

Dean stood up, looking at Mrs. Hudson, scared he had woken her.

He didn't, thankfully.

He walked over to the other bunk beds. John was sound asleep too. Dean's eyes looked up to see Sherlock propped up on one elbow staring at him again. He back up a little bit.

"Can't sleep?"

Dean shook his head.

"Me neither. Too much to think about."

"It's..." He started crying. "It's my m-"

"Your Mummy?" Sherlock sighed. "Mine's gone too. So is John's." He tried to think of something to say to a four-year old. Something...comforting.

"I miss her." Dean rubbed his eye. "Daddy's gone too, so I have to watch Sammy, but-"

"You don't know how..."

Dean looked up to see Sherlock crouched in front of him. He shook his head. Sherlock sat back on the ground, crossing his legs.

"Come here." He said softly as he patted the floor in front of him. The child sat down in front of him, his little eyes hopeful. "Look, I'm not the nicest person, but John is. But we can be friends. I can teach you how to read, I can teach all sorts of amazing things that are out there."

Dean whimpered. "But I don't like the monsters."

"Oh nononono...Dean, there is so much more out there. A whole world we have never seen before. You see that over there next to the toys?"

Dean looked over and nodded.

"Those are books that give you extraordinary gifts."

"Really?"

"Yes, that's why I love reading. You can learn so much. Did you like your bed time story?"

"Batman is cool."

"Yes, he is. And guess what? There are so many more stories about him right over there."

"Can I see?"

Sherlock glanced over to Mrs. Hudson. He didn't want to risk it. "First thing tomorrow after breakfast. Try to go back to sleep."

"Ok..." Dean got up.

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember Batman any time you get scared. What would he do?"

"He would beat the bad guys."

"Right you are." Sherlock smiled at him, then climbed back into bed. Dean was able to sleep soundly the rest of the night.

* * *

Breakfast was really good this morning. Dean loved pancakes.

"Alright, boys, I've going to be right over here if you need me." Mrs. Hudson went back over to the crib.

"So, Dean." John walked up to the boy. "Today we don't have lessons, so we get to do whatever we want. What do you like to do for fun?"

"Whatever I want? Well..." Dean looked at Sherlock, who nodded. "Batman!"

"Batman? Alright then." John smiled then winked at Sherlock, who was smiling as well.

"Come on, then." The boys took Dean over to the shelf he saw last night. John pulled out three books that all had Batman on him. They spent the morning reading about the masked vigilante, Dean taking it all in. The comics were so much fun to look at. By the time lunch came around, Dean had had more fun in those few hours than in his entire life.

John could not help but love this boy, like his own little brother. The past six months had been horrible for him and Sherlock. Dean and Sam were a breath of fresh air for them. Still so young and so innocent. John was surprised these children survived out there. He made a promise to himself like he did towards Sherlock...he will always protect those boys.

* * *

After a while, Dean was thrilled. Sam was trying to stand up.

"John! Sherlock! Hurry!"

The boys ran in from outside in a mild panic, worried Dean was in trouble. They always kept an eye on their new friends. They relaxed when they saw a big smile on his face.

"Look at Sammy!" The toddler was crawling towards a huge pillow, reaching up as if he was trying to stand up. "C'mon, Sammy, you can do it!" Dean encouraged his little brother.

Sammy looked around at everyone staring at him. He went back to the task at hand. Mrs. Hudson walked in with the tea, then was shushed by Sherlock and John.

"Oh my." She whispered. Quietly setting the tray down, she walked over to Sam.

"De? De!" Sammy's chubby fingers gripped the pillow tight.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm right here!" Dean stood on his knees a few feet from Sammy.

The younger brother waved one hand up and down, then scooted his foot forward. Dean never looked away, silently encouraging his brother. Sammy let go with his second hand and stood freely for a minute, looking around.

"Sammy."

The first step counted, even though it lasted only about five seconds. He fell down, and John and Sherlock silently cursed.

"Sammy, c'mon."

Sammy got up, held his hands up, and Dean mirrored his brother's gestures. He put another foot forward, then what felt like hours later, took another step. Sammy giggled, pleased with himself and clapped.

"Good job, Sammy!"

Dean's praise sent Sammy practically running forward into his big brother's arms.

"Did you guys see that? Sammy can walk! He can walk!"

Everyone laughed, each congratulating little Sammy.

"De! De!" Dean hugged him tight. "I'm so proud of you, Sammy!"

* * *

Mycroft walked down the hallway, preparing to tell the Prince the latest update on the boys. He found him on the rooftop, looking out past the walls.

"Your Higness, it seems that Sam has taken his first steps."

"So he's getting stronger?" Jim asked without turning around.

"It would appear."

Jim stepped back from the edge and walked towards Mycroft. "Patience is a virtue that I have mastered over the years. But, I can't help but wonder why it's taking him so long to get here."

"There have been complications."

"I know." Jim rolled his eyes. "Anyways, how long till they're ready now?"

"Twenty-one years and three days."

Jim rubbed his temples. "Maybe I should've, no, no! It has to be this way! Any old man off the street won't do!"

"No, Sire, it wouldn't. How about we go downstairs?"

Jim looked one past time at the night sky, not a star shining. "Alright, it's boring outside anyway."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Ten Years Later..._**

Dean climbed down from the top bunk, careful not to be loud. Seeing Sam engrossed in some book he was reading in his "nerd cave," Dean just shook his head and went to the door. Sherlock and John silently appeared behind him.

Crouching down, Dean picked the lock with a bobby pin, courtesy of Mrs. Hudson.

"Are you sure about this?" John whispered to Sherlock.

Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to stay calm. "No, John, we are _not_ sure about anything, so long as we stay in this nursery like children. I want to know what's outside just as much as you and Dean do."

"Bingo." Dean heard the click, and opened the door. Looking once more behind him to make sure Sam was alright, they all filed out. Dean locked the door, in case Sam changed his mind about not trying to follow.

It could be dangerous.

Sherlock started walking to the right down the hallway. Dean vaguely remembered his first trip down the hall. They had not been allowed anywhere else in the palace since. Sure, the boys had everything they needed: a bedroom, an outside patio, full bathroom, gym, and full-course meals served to them every day. But it felt like a prison.

Traveling down the hall, passing door after door, it took all Dean had in him to not open one. They just wanted to stretch their legs.

John, being a rule follower, opposed to the idea of sneaking out in the first place, but gave in because, well, curiosity killed the cat. He kept looking back over his shoulder, worried a guard would catch them.

Or worse.

Sherlock's eyes cut left, right, up, down, taking in everything around him. It was too quiet, even for half past one in the morning. Turning once more to the right, they hit a dead end.

"This can't be right." Sherlock looked all around the wall in disbelief.

"Sherlock, we haven't been outside our room in ten and a half years." John recalled. "There's no way you can remember running away."

"How far did you get?" Dean asked.

"To the wall. But I wasn't-"

"He didn't want to leave you behind."

They spun around to the new voice in the conversation. It was the Prince.

"Well, well, well, and what are you boys doing up at this hour?"

"Just sightseeing. Beings that we're bored." Sherlock answered.

"We are very sorry." John did not want to upset the Prince, not after what happened last time.

"Oh, don't apologize. It's human nature! I understand!" The sweetness of the voice tasted bitter.

Dean did not like where this was going. He looked at John, who was equally as suspicious.

"Funny you should mention that." Sherlock shot back.

"Sherlock." John warned.

"I don't recall making a joke, although I am funny sometimes."

"If it is within our nature to go out and explore, then why treat us as domestic, _caged_ animals. This is our home, is it not?"

The Prince looked at the three boys. He let out a tired sigh. "You don't understand."

"Then please, do elaborate."

"No, no, it's not _time_ , yet."

"Alright, well, we learned our lesson, sorry, uh, we'll see you tomorrow night for dinner." Dean started to pass the Prince, John and Sherlock still frozen in place. "Let's just go back to bed, guys."

The Prince laughed. "You know, for someone who claims to be such a protective big brother, you do a very poor job at looking after little Sammy."

Dean forgot for a second where he was. He forgot about the rules. He forgot about his father's rules. Because he was selfish. No, Sammy was safe, as long as he stayed in bed. The circle would protect him. Unless...

Dean started to run back down the hallway.

"C'mon now, please, he's just a kid." John begged.

"You know what happens when you break my rules."

Sherlock and John both cut their eyes down.

"But this is different."

"How? Trying to escape to see the monsters that live outside these walls? It's like you are all on a suicide mission. After all I've done. I've given you a family!" He paused, then softened his voice. "And now it's broken."

"What. Did. You. Do." Sherlock wanted to run, but needed answers.

"I'm just talking. I'm standing right here, as you can clearly see." He smirked. "Besides, you can't do anything to stop it now."

 _BANGBANGBANG_

"SAMMY!"

Sherlock and John raced down back to the room they had just escaped from, dreading what they were going to find. Dean was banging on the door, the sound heard from all the way down the hall. Sherlock pulled him back as John kicked the door in, crashing to the ground.

"Sammy!"

A man dressed in a black coat stood up straight from his knelt position. A wide smile stretched across his face. "Well, look who it is! Daddy's blunt little instrument. The good little soldier."

Dean began to charge, but John and Sherlock held him back. The man walked forward, putting a finger to his lips. "I would be very quiet if I were you. Wouldn't want to wake little brother."

"What did you do to him, you monster!"

The man just smiled. "How right you are." Before he disappeared, Dean caught a glimpse of his eyes. He shrugged away from John and Sherlock, and knelt down next to Sam. The boy was sleeping like an angel.

"He's fine, Dean." Sherlock stated. John gave him a look, and in return Sherlock gave him a harder one.

"What, no! I have to make sure. Sammy?" Dean gently shook his little brother.

Sam's eyes sleepily opened. "Oh, you're back. Must've fallen asleep reading again." He noticed Dean looked worried. "Y'all got caught, huh?"

Dean let out a huff. He seemed fine. "Yeah, no big deal. We'll try again."

Sherlock looked down, noticing the rug underneath their bed was flipped up on one end. And the trap had a scratch.

"Dean."

Dean looked at Sherlock pointing to the mark on the floor.

"No." Dean pulled Sam out of bed, and John turned the lights on.

That's when they saw the blood.

"Sammy, what happened?"

Sam scrunched his eyes in confusion, then a light bulb seemed to go off on his head. "Oh, yeah, I had a nosebleed earlier. It kinda got on my shirt, but I figured Mrs. Hudson could get it out tomorrow. She won't be too upset, right?"

Dean nodded, then smiled. "Right, well, I think we've had enough excitement for one night." He turned to look at Sherlock and John, silently promising each other _not_ to discuss any of what they saw to Sam.

Later that night, Dean and John could not sleep, what with Sherlock scribbling something in his journal with his reading light on. Crumpled balls of paper landed in each of their beds. Sherlock figured this was something bad, and this was not the work of just any monster.

It was a demon, and he was working for the Prince.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock did not sleep a bit. His mind was going over every detail of that strange man. What did he do to Sam?

The sun barely broke through the night, and he jumped out of bed. He crept over next to Sam and poked him a couple of times.

"Sam?"

The boy stirred for a second, then frowned before barely opening his eyes. "Sherlock? What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to see if you are alright. You've been restless all night, hence the reason your pillow is over by the door. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're rubbing your temples right now, which could mean a migraine, but you wouldn't be so lucky."

Sam got out of bed, and stood almost eye-level to Sherlock. "What happened last night?"

"You tell me."

"I don't remember...all of it." Sherlock waited patiently. The mind never truly forgets anything...unless...

A knock on the door sent Sherlock jumping up onto his top bunk as Sam dove down into the covers. It was too early to be woken up. Not quite 7:00.

Mrs. Hudson hurried into the room, stress engraved into every wrinkle on her old face. "Alright, boys, get to it, then. Oh goodness me. There's not enough time." She started mumbling to herself then stopped. "DEAN!"

"I vengeance!" Dean shot up, eyes still closed and half asleep.

"Get dressed! We don't have time to lull around now!"

"Mrs. Hudson, what's the occasion?" John was already halfway dressed. Sherlock landed somewhat gracefully on the ground, blanket still wrapped around himself.

"We have a very important guest coming in less than an hour." She jerked Sherlock's blanket from him, who immediately wrapped his arms around himself tighter.

"It's cold!"

"Shut it, drama queen!" John purposely ran into him. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"What's for breakfast?" Dean was tying his shoes, awake enough to realise he was hungry.

"I don't know, perhaps cereal? We have to be ready!"

Dean found it odd that Mrs. Hudson did not know what was for breakfast. She was always rambling about their schedule for the day, harping on him for falling behind on his lessons.

John was the first one ready, followed by Sam and eventually Dean. Sherlock, as always, was last.

"Let's go, and please be on your best behavior. That means be quiet, you two!" Mrs. Hudson pointed to Dean and Sherlock, who exchanged confused glances.

They went to the throne room with Mrs. Hudson, seeing the Prince was already atop with a crown on his head. He looked expectantly at the doors in front of him, where the guest was soon to appear. Guards were stationed at the door and on either side of the Prince, sunglasses on.

It was raining outside.

Mycroft was standing alongside the carpet, umbrella stabbing the soft surface. His usual frown was ever so present. He pulled out his phone to check the time then sighed.

"Gentlemen. Mrs. Hudson. Your Majesty. May I present our new ally, Mr. Azazel."

The doors were opened to reveal a man dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans. He was also wearing sunglasses. Walking forward with confidence, he stopped at the edge of the stairs leading up to the throne and bowed meaningfully.

"My Prince." He turned his head towards Sherlock, John, Sam, and Dean. "Boys."

Mycroft exited the hall.

"You're late." The Prince huffed annoyed.

"I apologize, your Majesty. You know how unpredictable things can be."

"Enough with the formalities. Carry on." The staff gestured towards the group.

Azazel took his sunglasses off. The boys shifted uncomfortably. Sam hissed in pain, rubbing his forehead.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered.

Mrs. Hudson screamed as she was slammed against the wall by an invisible force. Her breathing quickened, her heart beating hard against her chest.

"Mrs. Hudson!" John cried. He tried to move, but couldn't.

"I'm so sorry, but the Prince is no longer in need of your services." Azazel laughed. Closing his hand into a fist as he raised it above his head, so did Mrs. Hudson ascend to the ceiling.

Dean fought as hard as he could, but his body was frozen. All he could do was watch in horror as his second mother who protected him from the monsters was being killed slowly right before his eyes.

The woman stopped breathing as silence filled the grand hall for what felt like an eternity.

And then she was engulfed in flames.

 _Don't look up, Dean. Promise me you won't ever look up._

Dean wished he could keep his promise this time.

The screams became a white noise that cut off as soon as it started.

Suddenly, the force that held them firm let go of them, but they were frozen in fear. Was this another nightmare? If only.

"Now that that's over." The Prince stood up. "As you can tell, class has been cancelled. I have something very special planned for each and every one of you. My brothers. This is the dawn of a new age, and you are my rising stars. Now run along, if you want to stay alive."

Sam looked at Dean. John looked at Sherlock. They all looked at the Prince.

"What? _Now_ you want to stay inside? Oh no no no, my dears." He whistled as if calling a dog. The sounds of growling was heard all around them. The boys stood backs against each other, frantically searching for the new monsters that they could not see.

"Sherlock?" John swallowed hard.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"RUN!"

"Go, Sammy, go!"

They ran and ran as fast as they could, hearts racing faster as jaws clamping in their ears pushed them further. The Prince's laugh echoed, but was soon drowned out by these invisible monsters chasing them.

"This way!" They followed Sherlock without question towards the front double doors leading outside the castle. This is it. They were finally getting out. Now if they could just make it out alive.

Opening by itself, there was not a guard in sight. No one cared, as they were continuing to be chased across the front courtyard.

"The wall!" John shouted. His stomach flipped, remembering what happened last time they were here.

Vines shot up from the ground, thorns covering them. The boys jumped up as high as they could, and no one reacted to the bloody palms as the monsters bit at their heals.

"Hurry!" Dean urged on. He made sure Sam was not out of his peripheral vision.

They finally made it up to the top, but did not rest high up on the stone.

"The fall won't kill us!" Sherlock calculated. "Just tumble out of it so you don't break a leg!" John gave him a look then went first.

"Go Sammy! I'm right behind you!" Fall by fall, they rolled through the dirt to relieve themselves of impact. They kept running until they could not hear the barking anymore.

After miles of running and hiding from the creatures that prowled this wilderness, they finally stopped.

"There!" John led them into what looked like a hole in the ground. And it was, but it looked like it used to be a house.

Breathless, they took a few minutes to compose themselves.

"What the hell?!" Dean retorted. He started pacing. And he was not acknowledged.

Mrs. Hudson was gone, and they were homeless amongst a wasteland full of monsters.


	7. Chapter 7

It was high noon, the sun burning the sky. The boys were tired from their escape from the castle that morning. Hard to believe that they could go from luxury in a prison to free men, starving to death in a matter of hours.

"Dean? I'm thirsty." Sam sat against the wall, his big brother still pacing.

"We're _all_ thirsty and hungry. We need to-"

 _THUMP_

Something landed just outside their hole. John held up a hand to quiet everyone and to stay down. He crept towards the entrance, where a ray of sunlight pierced through. He peered out just enough so his eyes could see. It was a sack. He looked around for a moment.

No one or _nothing_ in sight. But something was out there.

"Sherlock," John whispered, snapping his fingers then pointed towards the ground. "Give me-" A branch was put into his hand. John figured it would be just about long enough.

Looking around once more, he reached out to hook the bag. He dared to make a step up and out, and in a flash, the bag was caught and he jerked it back in as he himself fell down back into the hole.

The boys crowded around him, wondering what was in the bag.

"It might be a bomb." Dean wondered.

"No, Dean, it's not a bomb." Sherlock corrected. He pulled out a single water bottle, a small loaf of bread and a note.

Sherlock read it out loud.

 _"I heard you boys skipped breakfast and figured you might be hungry. Better eat up. You'll need your strength tomorrow._ "

"For what?" Sam asked.

No one knew.

They divided the bread into four pieces, each eating as slowly as slowly their hunger would let them. Then they each took a couple of sips of water, saving the rest for later.

"What if it was poisened?" Dean asked.

"Then we would be dead already." Sherlock replied. "Moriarty needs us alive for some reason. He wouldn't kill us this soon. This quickly."

Everyone shifted nervously, hoping this was all just a bad dream that they would eventually wake up from.

* * *

John and Dean found a piece of a door that would cover the hole so they could be shaded during the day and closed off from the night. Sherlock talked with Sam about the latest book he had read to keep his mind entertained on something besides their unfortunate predicament. He noticed Sam was discouraged, not really listening to what he was saying.

"It's not just, you know, Mrs. Hudson. I keep thinking that man-"

"We all know he is not a man."

"Yeah, but when he looked at me with those eyes, I saw something in my headache."

"In your headache?"

"Yeah, I saw something. Something that scared me more than anything else."

"What was it?"

"I don't know." Sam felt bad for not being able to answer Sherlock's question.

"Don't know what?" Dean asked as he and John hopped in from finishing securing their makeshift door.

"Nothing." Sam looked down, then cut his eyes at Sherlock. He knew he could trust Sherlock with anything. He was very smart, and Sam wanted to be just like him when he got older.

"Ok, well, we have protected this thing from just about anything not human we could think of." Dean plopped down on the ground, then took a small sip of water before handing it to John. "What I don't get is how he to and us."

"He has eyes and ears everywhere." John said. "When I found the sack, something was out there. I couldn't see it or hear it, but I felt this presence."

Everyone thought about it for a moment.

Dean spoke up. "Well, whatever it is, it can't get in here." He laid down, exhausted from the day.

"It's noon." Sherlock said.

"And I'm tired." Dean laid on his back, shifting too try to find a comfortable position.

"We have had quite enough for a day and a half's worth of events." John said. "A little nap won't hurt."

No more argument from Sherlock, who winked at Sam before laying down himself.

Sam pulled out his little notebook from his inside pocket, and started writing everything he could remember about his headache and the yellow-eyed demon.

* * *

Jim Moriarty, Prince of Reichenbach, was thrilled. Everything was falling into place, although not as originally planned. He thought back to the looks on their faces, the terror and utter betrayal. And now they were lost and scared. Confused little animals whose only surviving because he said so.

Not one demon was to lay a hand on them, not yet. Not until tomorrow.

He smiled as he looked over the wall into the wilderness. So much power, and it was all his.

He considered letting the Doctor inside his head again so he could gloat, but decided against it. He will come. So while he would have to wait, he could have a little fun.

"Let the game begin."

* * *

The TARDIS landed in a playground, where two children played silently. There were no adults and no other kids in sight of the area.

Stepping up into the big sandbox, the Doctor walked up to big slide and waited.

The boy and girl jumped off the swings and silently walked up to him.

"Hello. I don't remember you being this young last time."

"We could say the same thing about you, Doctor." The little boy said suspiciously.

"What brings you here? He's not up there." The girl questioned.

"I know. He won't tell me where He is either. I was hoping that-"

"He's not here either. He ran away looking for Dad." The girl interrupted, saying it a little too quickly.

The Doctor could tell they were lying. He rubbed his hands through his hair. "Do you know where he is?"

"We don't know. We were hoping you had any leads."

Well, the Doctor knew one thing for sure. He would definitely not tell them anything if he finds him. "Guess I need to keep looking, then. Carry on." The Doctor walked away, worried for his old friend.

Once inside the TARDIS, he let out a defeated sigh. "Where are you? I need to help me help them."

 _Doctor._

"Yes?" He spun around, looking up, hoping for a sign. "Why did you leave? Your children, they have fallen. I need to save them. Now!"

 _Wait._

The Doctor pulled a lever a little rougher than was necessary.

"Why?"


	8. Chapter 8

It was John's turn for lookout. The moonlight revealed very little as far as what horrors awaited them in the morning. Wind screamed as it shook up the dust from debris of homes that had been destroyed for years.

 _SNAP!_

John whipped his neck hard to the right, but saw nothing. Once again, his eyes deceived him.

"It's midnight."

John slammed the makeshift door shut, waking everyone up.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean slowly sat up.

Sam was gripping his journal tight against his chest while Sherlock moaned in annoyance.

"He's here." John whispered.

"C'mon out, boys! Don't be shy!"

Their door was thrown far off, its landing a meet echo. Everyone looked at each other. Sherlock went first.

"Oh, did I wake you?" The Prince said as if to a child. "Daddy is _so_ sorry."

"No, your _majesty_." Sherlock bowed. John and Dean emerged from the hole.

"Please, Sherlock, call me Jim. I thought we were a family."

"Cut the crap, Moriarty. What do you want?" Dean spat.

"Looks like somebody needs an attitude adjustment." Jim smiled at Sam. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Sammy. It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch." Dean pushed Sam behind him.

Jim winked at Sam, who began hissing in pain. He reached up to his head, rubbing it.

"Sh-sherlock..."

"Sam!" Sherlock grabbed the boy's shoulders and turned him directly in front of himself.

"There's a...monster..."

"Oooo...how _scary_!" Jim feigned.

"Shut-up!" Dean and John yelled in unison.

"What does it look like?"

"It's...just so ordinary, but, there's a light, and-"

Sherlock took the journal from Sam's shaky hand and wrote down every word.

"How interesting..." Jim whispered.

"What did that monster do to him?" Dean demanded.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Jim motioned for Azazel, and he came forward out of the shadows.

"Are we ready to begin?" The yellow-eyed demon asked. Sherlock his the journal on his person.

"Would you mind doing the honors?"

"Of course, my Prince." And he disappeared.

"Sam?!" Dean called for his brother, who was not there. "Where is he?!"

"Your brother has been given an opportunity. He was chosen by our lord of darkness to-"

"I don't care! Bring him back now!"

Jim just scoffed. "Uh, no. Ha!" He laughed in Dean's face, causing the teen to jump back. "Now you will make a memorial to him under my instruction precisely starting immediately! Get rid of all of this _shit_ so construction can begin."

"That would take weeks, maybe months with just the three of us." John said.

"Then I suggest you get started. And if you are thinking about running away..." He whistled, and growling could be heard. "Well, for Sam's sake, follow my orders, or I'll snap his little neck." Snapping his fingers, a contract appeared along with a knife. "Do we have a deal?"

John looked at Sherlock. Dean stepped up without hesitation. "I swear if you hurt him-"

"I've kept him alive this long, haven't I?" Jim pulled a knife. "Sign. With your blood. You belong to me now."

Dean hesitantly took the knife and cut his palm. It stung and he hissed in pain. He handed the knife to John, who did the same. Dean wet his finger with his own blood and signed his name. Sherlock stared at the knife then at Jim.

"You want to help baby brother?" Jim held up the contract. Sherlock stared at John's and Dean's names painted on the scroll.

"I don't know what you're up to, but mark my words, this will end with your blood shed at my feet."

"I'd like to see you try, my dear." Jim smiled, watching Sherlock's bony finger sign the contract.

"Now that the _boring_ paperwork is done..." A demon appeared, and the earth opened up in an explosion to form a huge crevice. The dust and the wind threw Sherlock, John, and Dean onto the ground. "Now, do be careful not to fall in. You are like newly bought property so I can't lose you on day one. Throw everything into the pit. Every brick, every tree, every stone. I want this land _spotless_."

"What are we building, exactly?" John asked curiously as he got up, dust covering him from head to toe.

"This." Jim pulled out an old photo. "It may mean nothing to you now, but it means everything to him. And it would be such a welcoming gift for our lord to see when he will rise again!" He tossed it on the ground. "Get to work." He walked off into the darkness, escorted by the demon.

"Sherlock..." Dean stared after Jim. John picked up the picture. "Promise me we'll save him."

Sherlock looked at Dean then to John. They were all each other had. At least there was some guarantee Sam was alive. Together, they could save Sam. They could be a family again. But for now, they had to play by the rules, _his_ rules, to stay alive. He would figure out what was really going on. Why they had to build this strange statue that resembled a run-down object that was used back in the late 19th century he remembered reading about one time. What was going on with Sam? And this lord of darkness. Nothing about him sounded pleasant. But he was coming. Whatever was in store for them, Sherlock knew they head to stick together. It was their only chance of maybe surviving this nightmare and rescuing Sam.

"I promise."

A whip cracked from the shadows, a demon appeared. "Aren't you a chatty bunch?" He jerked the whip again, splitting a tree in half. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

"And you are?" Sherlock asked. "What, a babysitter?"

Black eyes stared back, a dark laugh escaping the old throat. "I am Alastair, your disciplinary general." He threw the whip again at their feet, making the boys jump back. "I'm here to make sure you remain the honest souls you are by doing what you agreed to. If you don't, well."

"Ah!" The sting of the whip dug into John's shoulder. He backed up, sinking against a wall of a torn building. He pulled his hand away, sticky with fresh blood.

"John!" Sherlock knelt at his side.

"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "Lord, deliver us."


End file.
